Scents And Fragility
The delicate smell of flowers permeated the air as he pulled on the carved brass doorknob, eyes flickering towards the unusual design of the shop. It was a rare sight, as if it had jumped out of a fairytale; the shop wholly made out of a glittering glass, sparkled golden in the sunlight beneath the twining vines of morning glory. In other words, it looked like just the place to find a special bouquet of roses for Narcissa’s birthday.
The golden bell above the door tinkled merrily, announcing his arrival. The flowers swiveled their petalled heads towards him and a flurry of high- pitched voices ensued.
“Hi there, handsome,” An elegant lily craned towards him, her ivory petals fluttering furiously.
“Don’t be vain. You know he’ll pick me - won’t you, darling?” The rose purred seductively.
There was a chorus of outraged cries and more arguments ensued.
“Look at his hair - it’s so blonde it looks like a halo. Like an angel!”
Now they giggled furiously.
“You know, remember what Mistress told us about this boy she knew, she said-“
“She said that it was to be a secret, Daisy.”
Draco Malfoy sighed inwardly. He had to concede that Muggle flowers were far better than the magical ones, for then they could do nothing but remain silent, thus sparing him from the mind-numbing chatter.
“Well, it won’t hurt him. It’s not as if he’s the boy,” The daisy’s yellow petals turned fuchsia as she became more agitated.
“Oh… But you promised, Daisy!” The tulip retorted and huffed.
Above all the chatter, Draco heard movement from under the counter at the back of the shop.
“Is your Mistress in?” Draco asked the geranium, who was silent throughout the entire conversation.
The geranium’s violet petals tinged pink as she turned away from him, murmuring, “Yes, she is…”
“Thank you,” He tried as sincerely as he could, watching the petals of the shy geranium flush a furious red.
The clattering behind the counter increased, accompanied by furious mutterings and frustrated curses. Draco made his way to the counter as best as he could without getting tangled in the more than willing flowers, avoiding their snaring stems and vines and came to stand safely before the counter. It was emitting loud and violent noises, the florist rummaging furiously.
“Excuse me, miss, but could you-”
The florist stood up, panting slightly, green leaves tangled in her crimson hair - a stark contrast - and all the words inevitably died on his mouth.
“Good afternoon sir, how may I-” Ginevra Weasley paused abruptly upon seeing the man in front of her.
Her mouth opened and closed and opened and closed again. She stuttered, “Mal-Malfoy, wha… What are you doing here?”
A sneer formed on Draco’s face as he nodded tersely at her, before finding his voice.
”Weasley, I see that you are rather festive today.”
Her mind was in turmoil, incoherent. All she could see was a slightly shorter and thinner boy, his hair gleaming in a shining gold in the sunlight, a sneering younger Draco against the backdrop of flowers in the greenhouse.
A flash of blonde against the green had caught her attention. At once, she knew who it was; no one else had hair a colour like that. The blonde moved and grey eyes flickered behind the bush. Brown met grey and she bristled.
“Ferret.”
“Weasel,” He replied calmly, standing up and brushing the dirt from his robes.
Ginny blinked, gathering her thoughts and self- consciously brushed the stray leaves from her hair and retorted, “Well, sorry that I’m in such a mess. What can I do for you today?”
Draco frowned and picked up a rose, sniffing delicately, “I’ll need a bouquet of roses for my mother.”
“See?” The rose crowed, “He picked me!”
The other flowers gave a collective groan, moaning, “Not her again!”
Ginny smiled softly and shrugged, commenting, “As you can see, you’ve upset the flowers.”
Draco frowned has he brushed the fallen petals of roses away from the ground, muttering, “Stupid roses.”
Immediately, Ginny’s hand shot up to his mouth and she knelt in front of him, other index finger on her mouth. “Shh… You’ll upset the fairies,” She whispered.
Grey eyes locked with brown ones.
Ginny felt a blush creep up her cheeks and her heartbeat slowly increase as she became aware of how poignant the moment was.
“Fine, I’m sorry,” Draco apologised insincerely, albeit muffled, by her mouth.
Draco swallowed convulsively; much too aware of the memories she had resurrected with those few words. A strange feeling curled in the pit of his stomach, one that spoke of guilt, regret and most of all, unrequited… No, he couldn’t say it.
“I’ll need forty-three roses, to be placed in a basket,” He kept his expression stoic, while he watched various emotions flicker across her face.
Ginny kept her tone professional, “Forty-three?”
“For every year of her life.”
She only nodded, “Please pass her my regards. Shall I pick the roses, or will you?”
His eyes, luminous with secrets, pierced into hers disconcertingly.“I shall leave that to you; you were always better at handling the flowers.”
Trying to remain unfazed by his reference to the past, she nodded, stepping out from behind the counter to pick the rapidly squealing roses.
Draco watched her as she chose each rose carefully, examining every glossy petal for signs of wither and cutting the stem of the roses with utmost care.
“I can see that you love your flowers very much,” Draco noted politely.
Ginny looked up from her work, bewilderment etched on her face, then noticeably relaxed. Smiling slightly, she touched a crimson petal with the tip of her finger and uttered softly, “They’re my friends.”
Draco shrugged and nodded, muttering, “Ah, maybe I should rephrase that, you still love flowers.”
Ginny gave him a wry smile and replied, “You know that I do.”
Draco Malfoy stepped into the cool of the greenhouse, which had been erected by Professor Dumbledore to house Muggle flora and fauna in celebration of Love- The- Muggles Week, savouring the quiet of the surroundings. He found himself a bench and had comfortably sat down when he heard soft sobbing being emitted nearby. Curious, he followed the sound and stopped in his tracks at the sight he saw.
Ginevra Weasley was sitting underneath a rose bush, her knees cradled to her face, shoulders racking with grief. That was not what surprised Draco - she then reached out and cupped a rosebud, her voice choked with emotion, “Oh Alana, Ron is so, so evil. I wish I weren’t a Weasley!”
“Good for you,” Draco drawled, smirking as she spun around to face him, alarmed.
A tear trickled down Ginny’s cheek as she mumbled, “Oh, it’s you.”
“More so than anyone else, if I recall correctly,” He agreed.
That made Ginny pause in her tracks, her heart thumping furiously for an unfathomable reason. He remembered! She didn’t know what to make of that and opted for the safer and undeniably more cowardly-route: ignoring it.
She forced a cheerful smiled onto her face. “Yes, your memory is excellent.” Still managing to maintain the smile, she commented, “I will pick the quieter roses for you, how’s that? I must imagine that you are overwhelmed enough as it is.”
On the contrary, Draco looked anything but overwhelmed; inside, however, was a different story. He had always preferred the quiet and she’d had come to understand that about him years before. He gave her a bland smile. “You remembered.”
Her voice was quiet. Amidst the squealing though, her quiet voice still carried though. “So I did.”
Gathering the flowers, she picked a basket from a pile under the counter and took a sponge, where she started pushing roses gently into it.
“Ow! You’re hurting my lovely stem!” A rose exclaimed as Ginny pushed her into the sponge.
Ginny gave her a sheepish smile and stroked her velvety petals and cooed, “Sorry, I was really trying to be as gentle as I could.”
The rose huffed and turned away, upset.
Ginny glanced at Draco, who looked bored and seemingly out of place in his robes and suitcase. Well, she would be too if she had on an air of arrogance around her. Noticing that he was staring at her with a raised eyebrow, she hurriedly carried on pushing the roses into an arrangement. She then brushed past him as she gathered baby’s breath, who gurgled happily.
Pushing them in between the roses, she added a layer of pink crepe paper around the base of the basket, allowing the ends to stick out. She then placed the sponge gently into the basket, noting the wails of the baby’s breath and moans form the roses at the sudden movement.
Reaching out for the roll of pink ribbon behind her, she measured out the length of ribbon she needed and cut it. Then she measured the same length of white lace and cut it as well. Twisting the ribbon and lace together, she then proceeded to fashion a huge lacy ribbon on the handle of the basket.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! It’s so pretty!” Daisy exclaimed.
“Oh yes… It’s gorgeous,” The tulip agreed, her petals fluttering in agreement.
“It’s one of the best bouquets Mistress has ever made,” The lily praised.
Daisy twisted around to face Draco.
“So what do you think? Don’t they look absolutely beautiful?”
There was the slightest pause and then, “Yes,” he said lowly, eyes darkening like storm clouds, shifting away from the chirping Daisy to stare through Ginny. “You are absolutely beautiful.”
The daisy bounced about the best she could without falling over, yellow petals waving sunshine about the tense atmosphere.
“Did you hear that, Mistress? He thinks you are beautiful too! Now you believe what we’ve been trying to tell you all these years?”
Ginny stiffened. “I’m sure he means the roses, Daisy,” She muttered as nonchalantly as she could, shrugging.
Draco caught on immediately. “What do you mean, Daisy?”
“Daisy…” The tulip murmured in a warning tone, her petals darkening with dark emotion.
The rejected rose stopped protesting, and stood, silent in her vase, her senses attuned sharply to the atmosphere in the room. She ceased wriggling, and her green leaves quivered with utmost concentration. When the daisy stood shivering slightly, caught in a dilemma, the rose straightened, and with a falsely cheery voice she tittered, “Come on now, Daisy, daydreaming as always. Think before you speak, please. Don’t confuse reality with one of your raunchy fantasies.”
“Mistress,” the lily chimed in, voice an octave higher than normal, “Don’t forget to spray the roses - the water is in the back room.”
Ginny nodded, face taunt with tension, and exited.
Draco fixed an unwavering glare on the daisy, who trembled beneath his gaze.
“What is it, Daisy?” He demanded commandingly.
“Daisy, please,” The tulip pleaded.
“But- but-“ The daisy stuttered, nervous, “It is not as though he’s the boy, right? I mean, he sure has the right hair colour, but the boy who left wouldn’t come back - neither would he tell Mistress she is beautiful. You know; we’ve heard the story often enough.”
“Daisy…” The tulip moaned, slumping down the edge of the vase.
The rose cut in. “Don’t listen to her nonsense, handsome. How about we just leave, you and I?” This time though, there was a sense of urgency in her flirtatious voice.
“What boy?” Draco’s eyes flashed.
“You mean you didn’t know about the boy? Of course you wouldn’t!” The daisy exclaimed, tutting in disapproval, “He broke her heart you know.”
“Daisy!” The lily screeched, “Someone needed to tell you when to watch you words.”
“What did the boy do to her?” Draco urged.
The daisy seemed to ponder for a moment before replying; “He left her when he graduated. She never mentioned his name. Well, only once I think - it sounded like a mythical monster or something.”
The other flowers groaned, their petals shaking sadly as they shook their hands.
“Did your Mistress mention what the boy was like?” Draco pressed on.
“Um…” Daisy hesitated and glanced at the other flowers before continuing, “She said that he loved quiet places and nature, and oh, he could be quite arrogant at times. She secretly loved him but never dared to tell him because he would never feel the same way towards her.”
“That’s enough, Daisy,” a firm voice resounded from the back of the shop.
Everyone turned. In the dim doorway stood Ginny, her cheeks flushed daintily, eyes as hard as flint. Her face glowed a pale red in the doorway, red strands framing her face, ethereal.
“Oh dear,” The rose and lily murmured in unison.
She was late, but he waited till he saw a flash of red appear before him. Ginny was smiling slightly, he cheeks rosy; her crown of red hair burned and gleamed like fire, eyes shining.
“Happy birthday Malfoy,” Ginny exclaimed as she shoved a present into Draco’s lap, “It’s nothing expensive but I hope that you’ll like it.”
Draco leaned against the bark of a tree, examining the rectangular box.
“You did not happen to put a prank curse on it, did you?” Draco asked, voiced laced with suspicion.
Ginny huffed and retorted, “Well, you don’t have to feel obligated to accept it!”
Draco glanced at her with a raised eyebrow before muttering, “Alright, I accept it.”
Ginny’s rather hesitant face broke into a wide grin and she leapt onto Draco, hugging him tight. He was stiff and rigid and silent beneath her hands, as still as a statue could be. Ginny swallowed in apprehension. Perhaps… Perhaps she shouldn’t have acted so rashly. But just as she was about to give up, he cleared his throat awkwardly, his hands coming to rest on her shoulder, giving her a mechanical pat.
She giggled, he gave a hoarse chuckle; and her heart soared.
It was as though her features were set in stone. She snatched the basket, albeit gently and hastily sprayed some water on the forlorn roses.
The roses drooped, petals growing a darker shade as they stood limply. Sighing, Ginny gave the roses one last stroke goodbye and pushed the basket of roses over to Draco. The silence was deafening.
Ginny spoke first, her expression stony. “There will be no need for payment; merely tell Mrs Malfoy I wish her a Happy Birthday.” Turning to the daisy, she narrowed her eyes, leaving the terrified daisy cowering.
“I didn’t want to leave, you know,” Draco began, his voice low and rough, “And I didn’t think you’d-“
“Leave, Malfoy.”
He went on, “I didn’t think you’d care.”
Ginny could feel her badly patched up heart falling broken at its seams again. The last time it did, he’d left; but now she wanted, no, needed him to leave. She couldn’t bear the heartache again.
“Leave, Malfoy. I don’t want to see you ever again,” Her voice, fierce and strong, was marred by the growing shimmer in her eyes.
Draco let out a hoarse laugh, broken and desolate. “Do you think I enjoyed myself being away? All I could think of when I was away were our daily walks and the fairies and… and…”
“I’m a busy person, Malfoy. I do not have time for this, neither do I harbour any interests in listening to your sad stories. Please leave before I forcefully escort you out.”
Her voice threatened to break, and the ache in her grew ferociously. “Please…”
There was a pained light in his eyes, and he reached around the counted, imprisoning her with his hands. “I missed you everyday when I was away.” She struggled, but he held her tightly. “There was not a day that went by when I didn’t think of you.”
The dam broke. The tears she had been struggling to hold in streamed down her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why?” He laughed bitterly. “Why? Because of the same reason you saw it fit to confide in your flowers instead of me. Because the day I returned I braved Potter and asked him about you, only to be reminded how many worlds apart we are. And, because, on the day I left I realised what shame and cowardice meant.”
The only sounds came from Ginny, who was trying hard to stifle her sobs.
Hesitantly, he pulled her into his arms, where she stayed, unresisting.
A shrill war cry erupted from the tulip, “So you were the one!”
“You vicious, evil-“
“Oh come here now, handsome. I would like to introduce you to my thorns,” The rose fluttered with indignation.
Ginny sniffed and pushed herself off from Draco’s chest, protesting meekly, “But you know why I talk to the flowers so often!”
Draco smiled wryly and replied, “Yeah, I do. You were always ignored by your family members and had hardly anyone to talk to until you met me right?”
Ginny grinned and hugged him tightly, savouring his chest, “I’m glad that you still remember.”
Draco smirked, “Of course, we were the best of friends.”
Ginny snorted, “Yeah, we were when we weren’t fighting.”
Draco reached out for her hand, gently massaging it while his eyes were filled with unspoken joy. “Let’s not bring up the past, Ginny. There are a lot of things I wish to tell you, about my life overseas among others but what I really want to say is that you came into my life when I was desolate and alone.
Ginny’s eyes started to fill up with tears again.
“And above that, I really thank you for being the one and only friend who truly saw beyond my icy self and to the boy who was hidden within the depths of my soul.
A lone tear trickled down her cheek as Ginny struggled to smile, albeit wobbly one. Draco reached down and gently swept the tear away, staring right into her very soul.
“Gin, you are the loveliest and strongest women I’ve ever known. I know that I should’ve asked you this a long time ago, when we managed to cause Weasel King to tumble into the Great Lake- Mind you, he was almost strangled to death by the Giant Squid- but, would you have the honour of dating me?”
Ginny’s face broke into a smile as she buried her face in his chest.
“It’s three years overdue but yes, silly, I do.”
Draco gave a crooked grin and gathered Ginny by her arms, twirling her around in a circle as she laughed jovially. When he set her back down on her feet, they stared at each other, grins plastered on their faces and both utterly breathless. Then Draco cupped Ginny’s chin gently and tilted it up towards him. Ginny’s eyes softened as she shut them.
“Oh, I know what going to happen next,” The lily gushed, only to be shushed by the rest of the flowers.
Draco’s mouth descended upon Ginny’s sealing their first kiss.
“Love, sweet love,” The tulip sighed when the kiss ended.
“Darling, I didn’t know that you were such a romantic,” The rose added.
A giggle escaped the tulip. “I always was, but only when it concerns Mistress of course.”
They watched as Ginny hung her apron on a hanger in the back room and stood beside Draco as he picked up the bouquet of roses. He then gazed at her, before giving her a peck on her cheek, which he received a playful smack on his arm in return. They giggled for a second then their expressions sobered. Draco reached out for Ginny’s hand and led her out of the shop.
“Oh, Daisy?” Draco called before he stepped out.
The miserable daisy raised her head at his voice.
“I loved talking to you about Ginny. I’ll come by another day and we’ll have a long chat.”
The daisy brightened considerably and nodded eagerly.
Draco smirked and then shut the door, the golden bell tinkling for the last time that day as Ginny locked up the shop.
Co-written with satin_and_silk. Now you know what we do during boring school lessons.
The golden bell above the door tinkled merrily, announcing his arrival. The flowers swiveled their petalled heads towards him and a flurry of high- pitched voices ensued.
“Hi there, handsome,” An elegant lily craned towards him, her ivory petals fluttering furiously.
“Don’t be vain. You know he’ll pick me - won’t you, darling?” The rose purred seductively.
There was a chorus of outraged cries and more arguments ensued.
“Look at his hair - it’s so blonde it looks like a halo. Like an angel!”
Now they giggled furiously.
“You know, remember what Mistress told us about this boy she knew, she said-“
“She said that it was to be a secret, Daisy.”
Draco Malfoy sighed inwardly. He had to concede that Muggle flowers were far better than the magical ones, for then they could do nothing but remain silent, thus sparing him from the mind-numbing chatter.
“Well, it won’t hurt him. It’s not as if he’s the boy,” The daisy’s yellow petals turned fuchsia as she became more agitated.
“Oh… But you promised, Daisy!” The tulip retorted and huffed.
Above all the chatter, Draco heard movement from under the counter at the back of the shop.
“Is your Mistress in?” Draco asked the geranium, who was silent throughout the entire conversation.
The geranium’s violet petals tinged pink as she turned away from him, murmuring, “Yes, she is…”
“Thank you,” He tried as sincerely as he could, watching the petals of the shy geranium flush a furious red.
The clattering behind the counter increased, accompanied by furious mutterings and frustrated curses. Draco made his way to the counter as best as he could without getting tangled in the more than willing flowers, avoiding their snaring stems and vines and came to stand safely before the counter. It was emitting loud and violent noises, the florist rummaging furiously.
“Excuse me, miss, but could you-”
The florist stood up, panting slightly, green leaves tangled in her crimson hair - a stark contrast - and all the words inevitably died on his mouth.
“Good afternoon sir, how may I-” Ginevra Weasley paused abruptly upon seeing the man in front of her.
Her mouth opened and closed and opened and closed again. She stuttered, “Mal-Malfoy, wha… What are you doing here?”
A sneer formed on Draco’s face as he nodded tersely at her, before finding his voice.
”Weasley, I see that you are rather festive today.”
Her mind was in turmoil, incoherent. All she could see was a slightly shorter and thinner boy, his hair gleaming in a shining gold in the sunlight, a sneering younger Draco against the backdrop of flowers in the greenhouse.
A flash of blonde against the green had caught her attention. At once, she knew who it was; no one else had hair a colour like that. The blonde moved and grey eyes flickered behind the bush. Brown met grey and she bristled.
“Ferret.”
“Weasel,” He replied calmly, standing up and brushing the dirt from his robes.
Ginny blinked, gathering her thoughts and self- consciously brushed the stray leaves from her hair and retorted, “Well, sorry that I’m in such a mess. What can I do for you today?”
Draco frowned and picked up a rose, sniffing delicately, “I’ll need a bouquet of roses for my mother.”
“See?” The rose crowed, “He picked me!”
The other flowers gave a collective groan, moaning, “Not her again!”
Ginny smiled softly and shrugged, commenting, “As you can see, you’ve upset the flowers.”
Draco frowned has he brushed the fallen petals of roses away from the ground, muttering, “Stupid roses.”
Immediately, Ginny’s hand shot up to his mouth and she knelt in front of him, other index finger on her mouth. “Shh… You’ll upset the fairies,” She whispered.
Grey eyes locked with brown ones.
Ginny felt a blush creep up her cheeks and her heartbeat slowly increase as she became aware of how poignant the moment was.
“Fine, I’m sorry,” Draco apologised insincerely, albeit muffled, by her mouth.
Draco swallowed convulsively; much too aware of the memories she had resurrected with those few words. A strange feeling curled in the pit of his stomach, one that spoke of guilt, regret and most of all, unrequited… No, he couldn’t say it.
“I’ll need forty-three roses, to be placed in a basket,” He kept his expression stoic, while he watched various emotions flicker across her face.
Ginny kept her tone professional, “Forty-three?”
“For every year of her life.”
She only nodded, “Please pass her my regards. Shall I pick the roses, or will you?”
His eyes, luminous with secrets, pierced into hers disconcertingly.“I shall leave that to you; you were always better at handling the flowers.”
Trying to remain unfazed by his reference to the past, she nodded, stepping out from behind the counter to pick the rapidly squealing roses.
Draco watched her as she chose each rose carefully, examining every glossy petal for signs of wither and cutting the stem of the roses with utmost care.
“I can see that you love your flowers very much,” Draco noted politely.
Ginny looked up from her work, bewilderment etched on her face, then noticeably relaxed. Smiling slightly, she touched a crimson petal with the tip of her finger and uttered softly, “They’re my friends.”
Draco shrugged and nodded, muttering, “Ah, maybe I should rephrase that, you still love flowers.”
Ginny gave him a wry smile and replied, “You know that I do.”
Draco Malfoy stepped into the cool of the greenhouse, which had been erected by Professor Dumbledore to house Muggle flora and fauna in celebration of Love- The- Muggles Week, savouring the quiet of the surroundings. He found himself a bench and had comfortably sat down when he heard soft sobbing being emitted nearby. Curious, he followed the sound and stopped in his tracks at the sight he saw.
Ginevra Weasley was sitting underneath a rose bush, her knees cradled to her face, shoulders racking with grief. That was not what surprised Draco - she then reached out and cupped a rosebud, her voice choked with emotion, “Oh Alana, Ron is so, so evil. I wish I weren’t a Weasley!”
“Good for you,” Draco drawled, smirking as she spun around to face him, alarmed.
A tear trickled down Ginny’s cheek as she mumbled, “Oh, it’s you.”
“More so than anyone else, if I recall correctly,” He agreed.
That made Ginny pause in her tracks, her heart thumping furiously for an unfathomable reason. He remembered! She didn’t know what to make of that and opted for the safer and undeniably more cowardly-route: ignoring it.
She forced a cheerful smiled onto her face. “Yes, your memory is excellent.” Still managing to maintain the smile, she commented, “I will pick the quieter roses for you, how’s that? I must imagine that you are overwhelmed enough as it is.”
On the contrary, Draco looked anything but overwhelmed; inside, however, was a different story. He had always preferred the quiet and she’d had come to understand that about him years before. He gave her a bland smile. “You remembered.”
Her voice was quiet. Amidst the squealing though, her quiet voice still carried though. “So I did.”
Gathering the flowers, she picked a basket from a pile under the counter and took a sponge, where she started pushing roses gently into it.
“Ow! You’re hurting my lovely stem!” A rose exclaimed as Ginny pushed her into the sponge.
Ginny gave her a sheepish smile and stroked her velvety petals and cooed, “Sorry, I was really trying to be as gentle as I could.”
The rose huffed and turned away, upset.
Ginny glanced at Draco, who looked bored and seemingly out of place in his robes and suitcase. Well, she would be too if she had on an air of arrogance around her. Noticing that he was staring at her with a raised eyebrow, she hurriedly carried on pushing the roses into an arrangement. She then brushed past him as she gathered baby’s breath, who gurgled happily.
Pushing them in between the roses, she added a layer of pink crepe paper around the base of the basket, allowing the ends to stick out. She then placed the sponge gently into the basket, noting the wails of the baby’s breath and moans form the roses at the sudden movement.
Reaching out for the roll of pink ribbon behind her, she measured out the length of ribbon she needed and cut it. Then she measured the same length of white lace and cut it as well. Twisting the ribbon and lace together, she then proceeded to fashion a huge lacy ribbon on the handle of the basket.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! It’s so pretty!” Daisy exclaimed.
“Oh yes… It’s gorgeous,” The tulip agreed, her petals fluttering in agreement.
“It’s one of the best bouquets Mistress has ever made,” The lily praised.
Daisy twisted around to face Draco.
“So what do you think? Don’t they look absolutely beautiful?”
There was the slightest pause and then, “Yes,” he said lowly, eyes darkening like storm clouds, shifting away from the chirping Daisy to stare through Ginny. “You are absolutely beautiful.”
The daisy bounced about the best she could without falling over, yellow petals waving sunshine about the tense atmosphere.
“Did you hear that, Mistress? He thinks you are beautiful too! Now you believe what we’ve been trying to tell you all these years?”
Ginny stiffened. “I’m sure he means the roses, Daisy,” She muttered as nonchalantly as she could, shrugging.
Draco caught on immediately. “What do you mean, Daisy?”
“Daisy…” The tulip murmured in a warning tone, her petals darkening with dark emotion.
The rejected rose stopped protesting, and stood, silent in her vase, her senses attuned sharply to the atmosphere in the room. She ceased wriggling, and her green leaves quivered with utmost concentration. When the daisy stood shivering slightly, caught in a dilemma, the rose straightened, and with a falsely cheery voice she tittered, “Come on now, Daisy, daydreaming as always. Think before you speak, please. Don’t confuse reality with one of your raunchy fantasies.”
“Mistress,” the lily chimed in, voice an octave higher than normal, “Don’t forget to spray the roses - the water is in the back room.”
Ginny nodded, face taunt with tension, and exited.
Draco fixed an unwavering glare on the daisy, who trembled beneath his gaze.
“What is it, Daisy?” He demanded commandingly.
“Daisy, please,” The tulip pleaded.
“But- but-“ The daisy stuttered, nervous, “It is not as though he’s the boy, right? I mean, he sure has the right hair colour, but the boy who left wouldn’t come back - neither would he tell Mistress she is beautiful. You know; we’ve heard the story often enough.”
“Daisy…” The tulip moaned, slumping down the edge of the vase.
The rose cut in. “Don’t listen to her nonsense, handsome. How about we just leave, you and I?” This time though, there was a sense of urgency in her flirtatious voice.
“What boy?” Draco’s eyes flashed.
“You mean you didn’t know about the boy? Of course you wouldn’t!” The daisy exclaimed, tutting in disapproval, “He broke her heart you know.”
“Daisy!” The lily screeched, “Someone needed to tell you when to watch you words.”
“What did the boy do to her?” Draco urged.
The daisy seemed to ponder for a moment before replying; “He left her when he graduated. She never mentioned his name. Well, only once I think - it sounded like a mythical monster or something.”
The other flowers groaned, their petals shaking sadly as they shook their hands.
“Did your Mistress mention what the boy was like?” Draco pressed on.
“Um…” Daisy hesitated and glanced at the other flowers before continuing, “She said that he loved quiet places and nature, and oh, he could be quite arrogant at times. She secretly loved him but never dared to tell him because he would never feel the same way towards her.”
“That’s enough, Daisy,” a firm voice resounded from the back of the shop.
Everyone turned. In the dim doorway stood Ginny, her cheeks flushed daintily, eyes as hard as flint. Her face glowed a pale red in the doorway, red strands framing her face, ethereal.
“Oh dear,” The rose and lily murmured in unison.
She was late, but he waited till he saw a flash of red appear before him. Ginny was smiling slightly, he cheeks rosy; her crown of red hair burned and gleamed like fire, eyes shining.
“Happy birthday Malfoy,” Ginny exclaimed as she shoved a present into Draco’s lap, “It’s nothing expensive but I hope that you’ll like it.”
Draco leaned against the bark of a tree, examining the rectangular box.
“You did not happen to put a prank curse on it, did you?” Draco asked, voiced laced with suspicion.
Ginny huffed and retorted, “Well, you don’t have to feel obligated to accept it!”
Draco glanced at her with a raised eyebrow before muttering, “Alright, I accept it.”
Ginny’s rather hesitant face broke into a wide grin and she leapt onto Draco, hugging him tight. He was stiff and rigid and silent beneath her hands, as still as a statue could be. Ginny swallowed in apprehension. Perhaps… Perhaps she shouldn’t have acted so rashly. But just as she was about to give up, he cleared his throat awkwardly, his hands coming to rest on her shoulder, giving her a mechanical pat.
She giggled, he gave a hoarse chuckle; and her heart soared.
It was as though her features were set in stone. She snatched the basket, albeit gently and hastily sprayed some water on the forlorn roses.
The roses drooped, petals growing a darker shade as they stood limply. Sighing, Ginny gave the roses one last stroke goodbye and pushed the basket of roses over to Draco. The silence was deafening.
Ginny spoke first, her expression stony. “There will be no need for payment; merely tell Mrs Malfoy I wish her a Happy Birthday.” Turning to the daisy, she narrowed her eyes, leaving the terrified daisy cowering.
“I didn’t want to leave, you know,” Draco began, his voice low and rough, “And I didn’t think you’d-“
“Leave, Malfoy.”
He went on, “I didn’t think you’d care.”
Ginny could feel her badly patched up heart falling broken at its seams again. The last time it did, he’d left; but now she wanted, no, needed him to leave. She couldn’t bear the heartache again.
“Leave, Malfoy. I don’t want to see you ever again,” Her voice, fierce and strong, was marred by the growing shimmer in her eyes.
Draco let out a hoarse laugh, broken and desolate. “Do you think I enjoyed myself being away? All I could think of when I was away were our daily walks and the fairies and… and…”
“I’m a busy person, Malfoy. I do not have time for this, neither do I harbour any interests in listening to your sad stories. Please leave before I forcefully escort you out.”
Her voice threatened to break, and the ache in her grew ferociously. “Please…”
There was a pained light in his eyes, and he reached around the counted, imprisoning her with his hands. “I missed you everyday when I was away.” She struggled, but he held her tightly. “There was not a day that went by when I didn’t think of you.”
The dam broke. The tears she had been struggling to hold in streamed down her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why?” He laughed bitterly. “Why? Because of the same reason you saw it fit to confide in your flowers instead of me. Because the day I returned I braved Potter and asked him about you, only to be reminded how many worlds apart we are. And, because, on the day I left I realised what shame and cowardice meant.”
The only sounds came from Ginny, who was trying hard to stifle her sobs.
Hesitantly, he pulled her into his arms, where she stayed, unresisting.
A shrill war cry erupted from the tulip, “So you were the one!”
“You vicious, evil-“
“Oh come here now, handsome. I would like to introduce you to my thorns,” The rose fluttered with indignation.
Ginny sniffed and pushed herself off from Draco’s chest, protesting meekly, “But you know why I talk to the flowers so often!”
Draco smiled wryly and replied, “Yeah, I do. You were always ignored by your family members and had hardly anyone to talk to until you met me right?”
Ginny grinned and hugged him tightly, savouring his chest, “I’m glad that you still remember.”
Draco smirked, “Of course, we were the best of friends.”
Ginny snorted, “Yeah, we were when we weren’t fighting.”
Draco reached out for her hand, gently massaging it while his eyes were filled with unspoken joy. “Let’s not bring up the past, Ginny. There are a lot of things I wish to tell you, about my life overseas among others but what I really want to say is that you came into my life when I was desolate and alone.
Ginny’s eyes started to fill up with tears again.
“And above that, I really thank you for being the one and only friend who truly saw beyond my icy self and to the boy who was hidden within the depths of my soul.
A lone tear trickled down her cheek as Ginny struggled to smile, albeit wobbly one. Draco reached down and gently swept the tear away, staring right into her very soul.
“Gin, you are the loveliest and strongest women I’ve ever known. I know that I should’ve asked you this a long time ago, when we managed to cause Weasel King to tumble into the Great Lake- Mind you, he was almost strangled to death by the Giant Squid- but, would you have the honour of dating me?”
Ginny’s face broke into a smile as she buried her face in his chest.
“It’s three years overdue but yes, silly, I do.”
Draco gave a crooked grin and gathered Ginny by her arms, twirling her around in a circle as she laughed jovially. When he set her back down on her feet, they stared at each other, grins plastered on their faces and both utterly breathless. Then Draco cupped Ginny’s chin gently and tilted it up towards him. Ginny’s eyes softened as she shut them.
“Oh, I know what going to happen next,” The lily gushed, only to be shushed by the rest of the flowers.
Draco’s mouth descended upon Ginny’s sealing their first kiss.
“Love, sweet love,” The tulip sighed when the kiss ended.
“Darling, I didn’t know that you were such a romantic,” The rose added.
A giggle escaped the tulip. “I always was, but only when it concerns Mistress of course.”
They watched as Ginny hung her apron on a hanger in the back room and stood beside Draco as he picked up the bouquet of roses. He then gazed at her, before giving her a peck on her cheek, which he received a playful smack on his arm in return. They giggled for a second then their expressions sobered. Draco reached out for Ginny’s hand and led her out of the shop.
“Oh, Daisy?” Draco called before he stepped out.
The miserable daisy raised her head at his voice.
“I loved talking to you about Ginny. I’ll come by another day and we’ll have a long chat.”
The daisy brightened considerably and nodded eagerly.
Draco smirked and then shut the door, the golden bell tinkling for the last time that day as Ginny locked up the shop.
Co-written with satin_and_silk. Now you know what we do during boring school lessons.